


Compliments

by trashandstuff80



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, This is DUMB, references to adult activities, references to asexuality, smoky eyes Tom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-24 08:25:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8365021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashandstuff80/pseuds/trashandstuff80
Summary: If you think about it, he really does have beautiful eyes.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is dumb. I'm not good at writing fluff in the slightest. This features Tom eye headcanons from both yes-asil and noenee on tumblr. Please ignore this.

“You have beautiful eyes.”  


Their so-called ‘conversation’ skidded to a halt one day. Tom almost choked on his smirnoff at the words, turning to look at Tord with a surprised expression. Once he got a hold of his breathing, the expression turned into an unamused scowl. “Ha ha, very funny, asshole.” He took another sip of his drink, relaxing back into the couch.

The norwegian didn’t laugh, or smile. He actually looked quite blank, which was odd for him. Usually he was a sarcastic dick or angry at something. He’d never been  _ neutral  _ before, and it honestly creeped Tom out. Well, that and the fact that the compliment sounded so  _ sincere.  _ But it couldn’t have been, since Tom didn’t have eyes. Still. “I’m serious. Your eyes are amazing.”

“I don’t  _ have  _ eyes, jackass. They were shot out by a laser.” Tom muttered half-heartedly, not enjoying the memory of the searing pain. He’d had to go through it twice, too. He really wanted eyes that didn’t meet the same fate as his last two pairs. But, he could deal with the hand he was dealt. He could see kind of well, that’s all that mattered.

Tord was silent for a few moments before he was pulling out his phone. Tom began ignoring him, believing the conversation to be over. His attention was instead drawn to the crappy old horror movie that they were watching, since they’d stayed up to wait for Matt and Edd to get home from grocery shopping. The two had called a couple of hours ago and had claimed that the store was overrun with ferrets and dogs, so they’d be a little late.

He flinched and jerked away when Tord shoved his phone into his face. The eyeless man growled at the other, but squinted at what was on the screen regardless. It took his dark eyes a moment to adjust - Tord’s brightness was  _ far  _ too high, especially since none of the lights were on and the only light in the house was from the tv, which wasn’t bright at all - but the moment he saw a picture of himself, he started to sputter. “What- why-”   
  
“Your eyes.” Tord pointed out levelly, seemingly ignoring Tom’s discomfort. He pulled the phone away from Tom’s face only slightly, allowing the man to actually look at the picture. “They’re beautiful.”   
  
The picture in question was one that Tord had apparently taken when Tom wasn’t paying attention at some fair or something. Tom seemed to have just won a game, as he had a huge grin on his face and was being handed a toy - something he most likely pawned off to Matt, if he knew himself well. However, the main focus point was his eyes, which seemed to be smoking. Or glowing. The color of the haze was purplish-blue, while his normally black eyes were white.

“They do that sometimes.” The alcoholic huffed, not understanding what Tord found so ‘amazing’ about his weird eyes. So they glowed sometimes. Big deal. That glow also fucked up his vision, making colors distort and even blur if it got bad enough. It wasn’t something that was  _ positive,  _ as it mostly happened when he was extremely angry. So what if it happened when he was happy, too?

Tord shook his head and began flipping through his pictures. From what Tom could see, he had a lot of the three of them. Most of them were secret pictures, it looked like, as he had things like Edd sitting on the couch, Matt gushing over one of his toys to his friends... there was even one that looked like it was taken through a crack in a door - that one was of Tom playing his bass.

Tom looked at the norwegian, a growing sense of ‘what the fuck’ dawning on him as the pictures just kept going. “Why do you have so many pictures of us? What are you, a stalker?”

“For memories, if I ever leave here again.” The norwegian sounded distant, like he wasn’t focusing on his words. His words also had a touch of sadness, as if he wasn’t saying the whole truth. Tom decided not to press the issue, as the reasoning was fine in his opinion. Though that didn’t explain why he had so many pictures of Tom himself... “This one.” He turned the phone so Tom could see the photo.

The void-eyed man remembered the night that the picture was taken, unlike the fair one. It was a couple of days after Tord had returned, and the four had gone out on a picnic at Matt’s request. The picnic wasn’t anything special, just them trading stories that they thought were funny. It was one of the few times that Tom actually felt at  _ ease  _ with Tord since he’d come back. Those times, he could count on using one hand.

(And he wasn’t counting right now, since he wasn’t  _ relaxed _ .)

The photo was taken around the end of the night, when Tom and Matt were stargazing. Matt was the one that was into the whole ‘astronomy’ thing, pointing out constellations and stuff just to show off his knowledge. The only reason the stars caught Tom’s attention was because of the colors of the sky, as it was painted with strange purples and blues. He’d, admittedly, never had a chance to see such a night sky.

And, once again, Tom could see what Tord was alluding to. His black eyes were sparkling, almost seeming like they were reflecting the light of the stars.

“Do you see it now? They’re awesome.” Tord pressed, smiling slightly. “Pretty, beautiful, attention grabbing, what more can I say? I wish I had more pictures.”   
  
Tom rolled his ‘eyes’, still not seeing what was so great about the damn things. “So what, you’re gonna be taking pictures of me every time I let my guard down, just so you can ogle my eyes like some weird fetish?”

“That’s not the only thing I look at, you know.”  _ Now,  _ Tord was snapping. It was... surprising, to say the least, how venomous his tone had become in such a short amount of time. Especially since he was so calm just a moment before. “I sometimes like to, you know, think about other things other than how fascinating your eyes are.”

  
“Like what, commie?” Tom growled right back, liking this turn in the conversation a little more than the strange compliments he was getting before.

Tord locked his phone, the light that had held Tom’s attention for the longest time going dark. Now, it was hard to make out his expressions due to the low visibility of the room. “Oh, I don’t know, like your hair.” His hand shot out, grabbing Tom’s hair. The void-eyed man instantly slapped him away. “It’s so soft, and yet it stands up like that. How? I don’t know, but I’d love to find out. I’d love to just run my hands through it and relax.”

_ What?  _ Ok. Tom took what he said back. Maybe he didn’t like this topic more.   
  
“And sometimes I think about your voice. Not how you shout at me, but the times when I heard you actually having fun and laughing. It’s changed from back then, and I’d love to hear more of that.” The norwegian hunched forward, burying his face in his hands. “I think about the way you move, how you always seem to be so lazy and yet you’re so quick to spring into action. And I love being the reason that you do that. The springing into action, I mean.”

“Ok. I get it. You’ve got some weird fixation on me. I definitely needed to know that you totally jack off to me.” Tom felt uncomfortable and warm. Part of him even wanted to bolt, flee to his room instead of facing whatever the hell was going on here. It was... weird, to hear about how Tord was almost  _ obsessed  _ with him.

Tord groaned. “I do not  _ jack off  _ to you, Thomas. Trust me. I’ve got plenty of other things to jack off to.”   
  
“Tentacle porn?”   
  
“That’s not the point.” The norwegian dodged quickly. “While you may have crossed my mind once or twice while I was... in the middle of it, I’ve never consciously decided to, well, you know. I’m not attracted to you like that.” He sat up, leaning into the back of the couch. In the low light, Tom could just barely tell that he was flushed, blushing. “It’s more like, I want...”   
  
Tom sat in silence, not understanding what Tord was talking about. How could someone be attracted to someone else, but not want to bang them? The concept was foreign to him. The uncomfortable feeling began shifting into something more akin to shocked embarrassment - it wasn’t unpleasant, just not something he was used to.

“It’s not like I’m not attracted to you at all, but I’m not interested in all that... bed stuff. I never was. My shows were as far as I’ve gone with it. Just the thought of  _ me  _ doing something like that makes me kind of uncomfortable and sick.” Tord’s leg was bouncing, his hand was picking at the couch, and his voice was shaking ever so slightly. He was nervous. “But that doesn’t change the fact that you keep popping up in my mind when I don’t want you to.”

The alcoholic just kept staring at the norwegian, wanting to get the full story. When the other man failed to say any more, he cleared his throat and looked towards the tv. “Sounds almost like you have a crush on me, commie.” He claimed, sounding just as unsure as Tord did. “Which is sort of weird, since I’ve never shown any sort of attraction or kindness to you.”

Tord stayed silent, second hand fiddling with his phone. Tom could hear his breathing, how heavy it was, and it dawned on him that it must’ve been very hard for the norwegian to be open about all of this. He winced at the thought of how his words were taken. The phone was set down, and Tord took a deep breath. “Would it be ok, if I...”   
  
“Kissed me?”   
  
“ _ Hugged  _ you. I’m not sure I want a kiss, especially from someone who still hates me.” There was something that was hurt in his tone, and that was what drove Tom to turn to face him, shrugging and opening his arms. Within a matter of moments, Tord moved towards him, his arms carefully wrapping around him as he fell back against the couch. The man in red wasn’t all that heavy - not that Tom expected him to be, the damn string-bean - and it was actually kind of comfortable. The commie’s head was resting on Tom’s shoulder, and though Tom knew that his leg was going to fall asleep (since it was hanging off of the couch), he didn’t really want to move.

“You know, commie, even if we did try to work on your crush for me, there’s no way I’m not going to be an asshole to you.” The man in blue’s voice was quiet, hushed, and his hands tightened their grip on the back of Tord’s hoodie. He didn’t know why he was offering to get into some type of relationship with him. Maybe it was a kind of subconscious desire to get closer to Tord, since the man always seemed to push him away.

Thankfully, Tord laughed. He sounded tired and muffled when he responded. “Some people might see it as flirting. You don’t really think I’m going to be able to not pick on you either, do you?”

“Fair point.”   
  
From there, the two fell into a very relaxed silence. Tom watched the movie, feeling more and more tired as the movie dragged on. Eventually, he passed out, not caring that he was essentially a pillow for Tord.

The next morning was one that was filled with ridicule from Edd and Matt, as they’d walked in the prior night to see the two of them curled up on the couch together. It was made better by one simple action from Tord, though.

  
He showed Tom his phone, pulling up a picture of the man’s sleeping face. And damn it, if that didn’t make Tom blush.

**Author's Note:**

> Also, ignore that ending. I'm very bad at ending things.


End file.
